


12 Days of Christmas - e/R Ficlets

by rthecynic



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Christmas Ficlets, Fluff, M/M, but centred on e/R, enjolras has anxiety about christmas shopping, mainly e/R centric, nothing but fluff, other relationships are mentioned - Freeform, the other amis do appear though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthecynic/pseuds/rthecynic
Summary: A collection of ficlets based on the tumblr "12 days of Christmas" fandom prompt. I am super far behind, so I'm going to try and add a few ficlets a day until I finish it!





	1. 1. Christmas Gifts

Enjolras had hoped that the shops would be quiet at the beginning of December, that he would be able to avoid the frantic rush of people that always swarmed the main streets and shopping centres of Paris in the lead up to Christmas. Really, he should have learned his lesson last year, and the year before that, and even the year before that, because, yet again, he found himself stuck in the mall, unable to move due to the huge throngs of people on every side. Even the popularity of online shopping didn’t seem to have helped to ease the crowds. Perhaps it was the atmosphere; the joy of coming out to shop beneath the Christmas lights, to see the Christmas tree and to hear the carols blaring out of every shop. Maybe some people even liked the buzz, enjoyed seeing the masses of people going around their business, laden with gifts for their loved ones. Some people even seemed to make an experience of it; spending the entire day at the mall with their family, going out for a nice meal, and perhaps even to see a movie in the evening. Kids visiting Santa Claus whilst parents got excited about watching their children experience the magic of the season. Sleigh rides and markets and other gimmicks that always drew a large crowd. For most, it was a time of fun and magic and joy. For Enjolras, it was a time of stress.

He’d never done well with large crowds, and normally Christmas shopping wasn’t very high on his list of things to get done. A few small tokens for his friends were really all that he needed to buy; something to remind them that he loved them all dearly, even if he wasn’t always great at showing it. He would spend Christmas with his father more out of necessity than any wish to see him, the true spirit of Christmas only filling him when he went to Courfeyrac’s annual Christmas party. Not that his friends ever exchanged huge gifts. Just being together was good enough for them. A Secret Santa would be organised, a few small mementos exchanged between those who were extremely close, and everyone would just enjoy the company of people who they loved and who loved them in return. This system worked well for Enjolras, allowing him the freedom to mostly avoid the shops during the busy period. One day of stress-induced rushing about was normally enough for him; just an hour or so, to pick up a Secret Santa gift and a little something for both Combeferre and Courfeyrac. The past couple of years, he’d added Grantaire to that list too. An hour, he could endure. He could stuff his hands in his pockets and curl them up tight, focus on his breathing, try not to flinch every time a passer-by brushed against his sleeve. For an hour, he could shuffle along with the crowds and try to control the tremors that wracked his body as he felt the air around him grow hot and thick as he tried to suck in a breath. And once the hour was up, he could escape, gulp in the fresh air of the frozen Parisian streets, and make his way to the Musain for a cup of tea to calm his nerves. On particularly bad days, a phone call to Combeferre would normally get him through the panic, just enough to force his way through the crowds and out the door. His friends had suggested doing his Christmas shopping online, but he liked to know that what he was buying was perfect. He hated nothing more than the thought of a heartfelt Christmas gift arriving and not being exactly what he’d expected. Better to struggle through the hour of hell and know that he’d handpicked the perfect gift.

This year was different. So much had happened in the past few weeks. He and Grantaire had reached their five-year anniversary, and, a mere month ago, their adoption application had finally been accepted and their precious little girl had come into their lives. At three years old, Isabella was a happy, animated toddler, and she was their pride and joy. It was to be their first Christmas together as a family, and Enjolras knew that he had to make it extra special. 

So he took a deep breath, trying to block out the noise of the crowd that surrounded him and focus on his little girl. He thought of her sparkling blue eyes, filled with excitement as she woke on Christmas morning to find that Santa Claus had been. He thought of Grantaire’s fond smile as he watched Bella open her presents. He thought of Grantaire, so broken hearted as he told Enjolras that he wouldn’t be able to come on the shopping trip because he’d been up half the night shivering, struck down suddenly with the flu. And he knew he could do it. He could do it for Grantaire, and he could do it for his daughter. They meant the world to him, and he would do anything in his power to give them the best Christmas ever.

Grantaire had given him a list; all things for Bella. Dolls, an art set, stuffed animals; there was everything that Enjolras could think of for a toddler. They didn’t want to spoil her, but they’d agreed that their first Christmas together should be extra special. It had taken so long to get their application processed, and they’d thought that they would never have their little girl by Christmas. A miracle, Grantaire had called her as he’d picked her up for the first time. Enjolras was inclined to agree.

Luckily, Grantaire had given him a list of items that could all be found in one shop, meaning that Enjolras didn’t have to spend hours fighting through crowds and searching in shops that he didn’t even need to be in. Unfortunately, it seemed like every parent in Paris had had the same idea, and Enjolras found that he could barely move further into the store, nor could he turn around and force his way back out. 

“It’s for Bella…” he whispered to himself, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. He could feel the crowd shuffling around him and it was as if he was being carried along, caught in some strange conga line that wound its way around the entire store. All he had to do was focus on breathing and lift each item from the shelf as he was carried past it. The air was becoming hot and stuffy around him again, each jostle of the crowd made him want to cry, his hands shook violently as he clung to the basket. But he was almost there. He could see the end of the queue, and the freedom beyond it. He had almost made it, he just had to hold on a little longer. Though probably only a few moments, the remainder of the wait seemed to last an eternity. He repeated his daughter’s name in his mind like a mantra, a constant reminder of why he was here. And when he finally made it to the front of the line and he could breathe again, he could feel a slight burst of pride welling up in his chest.


	2. 2. Christmas Tree Decorating

It had been years since Grantaire had had a Christmas tree in his apartment. In fact, he hadn’t had his own Christmas tree since he was seven years old, when he’d left his grandmama’s to go and live with his father. His childhood had been over then. He’d never again known the warmth of a loving hug when he was sad, or the soothing presence of a saviour after a nightmare. Instead of playing and learning, he was being sent through open windows of houses to open the doors, or left standing on street corners in threadbare clothes, begging for money. Christmas was just another day after that; nothing special, and certainly not the magical time that it was for other kids. As he’d grown into adulthood, he’d just never regained the traditions that he’d missed out on as a child. It just didn’t seem important. It wasn’t like he had anyone to spend Christmas with, or even anyone who cared. At least, until he met Les Amis.

“What do you mean you’ve never had a Christmas tree?” Jehan had gasped, looking at him in horror after the admission. “Oh, R… We need to get you one!” 

He had tried to convince his friend that it was nothing; that he really wasn’t bothered about not having a tree, or about being alone on Christmas. The latter was a lie, but Jehan didn’t need to know that. It would only upset them, and that was the last thing Grantaire wanted.

That encounter had been three days ago, and now here he was, standing in the doorway, absolutely awestruck as Bahorel and Bossuet carried a tree inside his apartment, the rest of Les Amis hurrying in behind them, arms full of bags of decorations; tinsels, baubles, lights, everything Grantaire could possibly have thought of.

“Put the tree here Boss!” Jehan called, pointing to a spot in the corner of the living room, “This is perfect!” Bahorel and Bossuet followed Jehan’s instructions and placed the tree where they had indicated.

“Guys, what are you doing?” Grantaire asked, finally shutting the front door and following his friends into the living room, “Y-You didn’t need to go to so much trouble! I told you…”

“Oh hush, we know what you told us,” Joly sighed, rolling his eyes, “But you’re our friend, and there’s no way we’re letting you spend another Christmas alone. We’re decorating your apartment, and we’re all going to hang out with you tonight. And on Christmas Eve, you’re coming to Courf’s party.”

“Guys, really…”

“I insist!” Courfeyrac laughed, slinging an arm around Grantaire’s shoulder. “You must come to my party. It’s the highlight of the year! You’ll have such a great time, I promise you!”

Grantaire couldn’t stop the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes. “You guys are amazing, you know that? You make me feel so loved, and…”

“You are loved R!” Cosette smiled, taking Grantaire’s hand in hers, “And we will continue to tell you until you believe us. You’re our friend, and we all love you dearly. Please stop underestimating your worth to us.”

“Sweet Cosette, you are an angel,” Grantaire whispered, returning the smile with one of his own, “Our young Marius is a lucky man.” Cosette giggled at that, the sound soft and sweet and clear, like the tinkling of a bell. A quick glance at Marius showed that he had gone tomato red, and Grantaire couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Ah, Marius. You know I’m only joking!”

Bahorel joined in the laughter and clapped Grantaire on the back. “Shall we decorate the tree now R? We’ve brought tons of decorations, so you can do whatever you want with it! Just tell us your vision, and we’ll make it come alive.”

Grantaire snorted and began to dig through the bags of decorations. Whilst he did so, someone turned on some music, and the apartment was suddenly filled with the sound of Courfeyrac loudly belting out “Rocking Around the Christmas Tree” to the applause of the others. Watching as his friends danced around the apartment, tinsel trailing in the air behind them, Grantaire couldn’t help but feel grateful that he’d never had a Christmas tree. Surely it wouldn’t be anywhere near as fun to decorate alone. 

Soon tinsel was being thrown everywhere, landing haphazardly on the tree amongst the baubles and strings of lights. Marius sat in the corner, fighting with another tangled string of lights that Jehan wanted to wrap around the bannister. Cosette and Bahorel had retreated to the kitchen to bake cookies, the smell of the baking batter wafting throughout the apartment. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta were cuddled together on the sofa and singing along loudly to the music that still blared from the speakers, Bahorel and Feuilly were throwing tinsel at each other. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stood beneath the mistletoe, holding each other tightly as they kissed. Eponine, Azelma and Gavroche were bickering about which movie to pick for their inevitable film screening later that night. Grantaire watched them all fondly, suddenly struck by how much he adored this group of misfits that had adopted him as one of their own.

“It looks beautiful…”

The voice startled Grantaire, who immediately turned towards its source. “E-Enjolras…?”

Enjolras smiled at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You just… You looked a little lonely over here, but it seems like you were just watching. When I got here, I realised that you looked pretty happy.”

“I am happy,” Grantaire admitted, trying to hide the smile that pulled at his lips. “I’m happy to have such an amazing group of friends. I never imagined that I would have a Christmas like this. Hell, I didn’t even think I would have a tree!”

“It’s missing something…”

“W-What…?” Grantaire frowned, taking another look at the tree. It looked perfect to him. His friends had helped him decorate it, and that made it the best tree he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter what Enjolras thought; he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“It’s missing something,” Enjolras repeated, pointing to the top of the tree, “You haven’t put your star on yet.”

Grantaire followed Enjolras’ finger, his gaze travelling upwards to rest on the top of the tree. Seeing it now, it did look rather bare.

“O-Oh, I never even…”

“We wanted to leave it for you,” Enjolras interrupted, scuffing his feet, “We wanted to let you put the star on. I-I brought one for you…” Reaching into a bag, Enjolras pulled out a silver star for the top of the tree. “Of course, you don’t have to use it, but… Well, I wanted to contribute something, and I don’t have much in the way of Christmas decorations…”

Grantaire smiled and took the star from him. “Thank you Enjolras.” 

Climbing up on the arm of the sofa, Grantaire beamed as he carefully placed the star on the top of his Christmas tree, his friends watching him, and cheering as soon as he had finished. He leapt back down to the floor and into the waiting embrace of his friends. 

It didn’t matter about the tree; what mattered to him was the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and the love of his friends. The tree had been a symbol of that.

So maybe he would try to decorate a tree every year from now on.


	3. 3. Baby's First Christmas

Enjolras and Grantaire sat beneath the Christmas tree, utterly exhausted, but smiling proudly at the large bundle of presents that lay beneath the Christmas tree. The decorations were something of a mess; the combined effort of the two of them and Bella’s design suggestions, the crowning glory the angel that sat atop. Grantaire had held Bella in his arms and raised her above his head and she had proudly sat the angel in place, clapping her little hands and wriggling in excitement as she watched the flashing lights. It had been hectic, but oh so worth it. 

And now, sitting here on Christmas Eve, surrounded by presents and a mess of wrapping paper, the two men had never felt so exhausted or so fulfilled in their lives. The baby monitor on the table let them rest safe in the knowledge that their own little angel was sound asleep, having finally agreed to sleep in her own bed so that Santa could bring her presents. Santa wouldn’t find her if she was sleeping between two big adults, they’d told her, and she’d insisted that she could sleep on her own. It was a bit of a relief for the two new parents, but they still worried that she would wake and come looking for them. She hadn’t managed an entire night in her own bed yet, always worried that when she woke up alone that she’d been left again. The poor girl’s mother had perished in an accident hardly three months prior, and Bella remembered her, sometimes looking up to the sky and pointing, telling anyone who would listen that her mother was an angel now. Enjolras had tried to convince her to sleep in her own room, assuring her that they weren’t going to go to heaven anytime soon, but Grantaire, unable to leave her feeling scared, always pleaded for his boyfriend to allow the child to sleep in their bed, “just for tonight”. Enjolras, unable to deny either of them anything, would always agree.

“She’s sleeping well tonight,” Grantaire commented in a quiet whisper, lifting a cookie from the plate that they’d left for Santa and taking a bite. “I’m so proud of her.”

“Me too,” Enjolras agreed, “Who knew it would be as easy as telling her that Santa could only find her if she was in her own room?” He chuckled softly and took a long drink from Santa’s glass of milk. “God, I’m exhausted.”

Grantaire nodded, stretching and trying to stifle a yawn. “Yeah… But it’ll all be worth it when she wakes up tomorrow. I’m so excited Julien! I haven’t felt so much Christmas spirit in years!”

“It’s because of Bella,” Enjolras smiled, “She just brings so much joy. All of Les Amis are more excited than I’ve ever seen them, and it’s because of her. I think they all want to come round tomorrow night to bring her presents.”

“She’ll be the most spoiled kid in Paris, with all these aunties and uncles!”

“And the most beloved,” Enjolras whispered, leaning forward and catching Grantaire’s lips in a quick kiss. “Now, let’s get everything tidied up so that we can get some sleep before morning.”

\---------------------------

“Daddy! Papa! It’s Christmas!”

A soft groan fell from Grantaire’s lips as he rolled over to check the clock. “It’s 5:30 am…” Enjolras’ only response was to bury his head further into the pillow. Grantaire rolled his eyes and gave his boyfriend a shake. “Come on Julien, it’s her first Christmas. We should let her have her fun.”

He had barely finished speaking when the door opened and Bella ran across the room, launching herself onto the bed. “Papa! Papa! Has Santa been?” Grantaire laughed and sat up, tickling the little girl until she collapsed in a fit of laughter. “Oh, I’m sure he has been, my little princess. Shall we go downstairs and check beneath the Christmas tree?” Bella nodded, bouncing up and down on the mattress and holding out her arms to her papa as he slipped out of bed.

“Come on daddy,” Grantaire chuckled, pulling on a dressing gown before lifting the little girl into his arms. “Time to go and see if Santa’s been.” At Grantaire’s coaxing, Bella began to clap her hands and chant; “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

Enjolras couldn’t help but smile, rolling out of bed and pulling on a t-shirt, hair mussed up and eyes barely open. “That’s right sweetheart. It’s time to go and check if Santa’s been.”

The three of them made their way downstairs together, Grantaire cradling Bella in one arm as she held onto his neck, the fingers of his other hand entwined with Enjolras’. The two men glanced at each other and smiled, enjoying the brief moment of peace before Bella began wriggling to get out of Grantaire’s arms. 

“Papa, look! The milk and cookies are gone!”

Grantaire couldn’t help but smile as he gasped in surprise. “Oh goodness, so they are! Who do you think took them?”

“Santa Claus!”

Grantaire chuckled and set Bella down, letting her hurry ahead of them into the living room, where she suddenly froze, her entire face lit up in wonder. “Papa, are those for me?”

“Indeed they are princess,” Grantaire smiled, crouching beside her and following her gaze to the pile of presents. “Some of them are from daddy and papa, but I think some of them might be from Santa Claus too. Why don’t you go over and have a look?”

And then Bella was off running again, her parents lingering back and watching her fondly. Grantaire pressed himself into Enjolras’ side, head leaning against his boyfriend’s shoulder as he whispered; “I want to remember this moment.”

“We always will,” Enjolras assured him, pulling his phone from his pyjama trouser pocket and snapping a few photos as Bella began to tear the wrapping paper from her gifts. “We’ll always remember this as the best Christmas ever.”


	4. 4. Wrapping Presents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this one is super silly! XD

He sat staring at the pile of gifts in front of him; a small pile but a pile nonetheless. He didn’t have family to give gifts to, but he did have his friends. 

His Secret Santa; a little book of poetry for Jehan. He’d painstakingly written out all of his friend’s favourite poems, accompanying them with little illustrations that he knew they adored. 

A massage voucher for Éponine, knowing that she was running herself ragged looking after her two younger siblings and really needed a break. He didn’t mind taking the kids himself for the night, let Éponine have some time to herself. 

A new red peacoat for Enjolras; his had been damaged at a rally a few months ago and though Feuilly had patched it up as best he could, it still wasn’t the same. Enjolras had been devastated. Grantaire had immediately gone out to buy him a replacement, tucking it away in the back of his wardrobe until Christmas, barely able to contain his excitement. He was just so desperate to see Enjolras’ face when he opened the gift.

Reaching under the bed, he pulled out his final gifts; new shoes for Gavroche and a denim jacket and some makeup for Azelma. He knew how much Éponine despaired that she couldn’t buy her siblings new things, especially with them being kids and not really understanding how much it hurt her when they spoke of feeling outcast at school because of it. They knew that stuff was hard, and that Éponine was trying her best to keep the three of them afloat, determined not to let them down and have them sent back to foster families, but it was still difficult for them to accept being different from the other kids. Grantaire knew that Éponine would scold him for buying presents for Azelma and Gavroche; it wasn’t really as if he had a huge amount of money to spare after all, but he’d been saving for the past few months, even taking extra commissions so that he had enough to do something nice for the Thénardier siblings. He and Éponine had grown up in similar circles, and he loved her like a sister himself. She deserved something nice for once, and he wanted to give her it.

Overall, he was proud of his small haul. It may not have been a lot, but it had all been chosen after deep thought, and with love in his heart. Even his Christmas cards had been thoughtful this year; handmade, with little caricatures of his friends on them. They’d been a hit, and he couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside when he thought of it. But now it was Christmas Eve, and he’d put off wrapping the gifts for as long as he could. Taking one last look at the pile of presents, he turned, opening his closet to retrieve wrapping paper. 

“Fuck!”

The sharp curse was a mere breath, barely audible even to him. He’d forgotten to go out and buy wrapping paper! It hadn’t even occurred to him, believing that he’d had some left over from last year anyway. However, that certainly didn’t seem to be the case. The box that he’d gone to retrieve only had scraps of wrapping paper inside, way too small for the gifts that he had bought. The shops would all be shut too, closed early for the Christmas period. There was nothing he could do.

Rummaging around in the back of the closet, a last-ditch hope, he felt his heart leap as his fingers curled around a large cylinder. Wrapping paper! It wouldn’t be Christmas wrapping paper, but it was surely better than nothing…

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grantaire showed up to Courfeyrac’s annual Christmas Eve party, a large bag slung over his shoulder, brows furrowed. As soon as he entered, Courfeyrac was by his side, arm around him and steering him towards the kitchen. 

“R, you’re just in time! We’re about to swap Secret Santa gifts!”

Grantaire tensed a little as they entered the kitchen, looking around as everyone pulled their gifts from their bags. He felt as if all eyes were on him, watching him, even scrutinising him. Letting the bag fall from his shoulder, he slowly began to unzip it.

“Don’t laugh at me…” he mumbled. “I forgot to go out and buy wrapping paper, and this stuff is all I had left… I bought it to wrap Courf’s present in last year as a joke and…”

He was cut off at that, a loud cackle from Courfeyrac interrupting his words. Grantaire tensed again. Of course, their host would now know exactly what he was talking about, but none of the other Amis had been around when he’d been given the present, so as far as Grantaire knew, none of them had a clue what had happened.

Taking a deep breath, he reached into the bag and withdrew the little poetry book, beautifully wrapped in sparkly pink unicorn paper.


	5. 5. Christmas Songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is also kinda silly, oops XD

“I insist on Christmas karaoke!”

Of course, it was Courfeyrac who made the suggestion, but it was quickly a cry taken up by the rest of the little group. The annual Christmas Eve party was beginning to wind down now as it approached midnight, various attendees needing to get home, ready to spend Christmas day with family, albeit not all of them willingly. Courfeyrac’s party had been a tradition for as long as Les Amis de l’ABC had been a society, and, as always, it had been a huge success. This was, however, the first time that Christmas karaoke had been on the agenda.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Bossuet cheered, a half full beer in his hand, raised in the air and sloshing out the neck of the bottle. “I’ll go first! Joly! Chetta! I need backup singers!”

Joly shook his head fondly and went to stand by his boyfriend’s side, supporting him underneath one arm in a subtle attempt to keep him upright. Musichetta wasn’t far behind him, standing behind her boys and slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. 

“What are we singing Boss?” she asked, a hint of a chuckle clear in her voice. 

“Has to be Fairytale of New York, right?” Bossuet laughed. “Except I never understand what that guy says! But we’ll do our best!”

Anyone watching would have clearly seen that Joly and Bossuet had no idea what they were meant to be singing, but they were loud and proud, belting out the lines that they did know, confidently singing nonsense for the lines that they didn’t. Musichetta, however, a massive fan of singing along to her car radio, was almost a pro, adding some dramatics as she pushed Joly’s chest, sending him stumbling back into Bossuet’s arms as she strutted away, wiggling her ass at him and winking over her shoulder as she sang “Merry Christmas your arse and thank god it’s our last!”

After the trio had received their applause and Courfeyrac had cleared away the peanuts that he’d been throwing at them, the group was treated to a beautiful rendition of “Silent Night” from Cosette, and a wonderful remix of “Walking in the Air” from Bahorel. “It’s my favourite Christmas film!” he insisted when his friends gave him a few odd looks for his song choice.

Sitting in the corner of the room with Jehan and Éponine, Grantaire watched curiously as Enjolras stood, insisting that he wanted to go next. He’d never heard his boyfriend sing, and he didn’t think that Enjolras had ever intended to change that. Exchanging some raised eyebrows with his two friends, he shuffled his chair closer to them.

“Do you think lover boy had too much to drink tonight?” Éponine whispered, trying to stifle a giggle. 

“Enjolras doesn’t drink!” Jehan whispered back, almost sounding mortified at the very thought. At this, Grantaire gave a small shake of the head.

“He had a few tonight. It’s not like him, but… Well, you know he’s been a bit more relaxed lately…”

“It’s the sex.” Éponine stated bluntly, snorting when her best friend’s face immediately turned a shade of tomato red. “What? It probably is!”

Grantaire opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the opening chords of “All I Want for Christmas is You”. Enjolras kept his gaze completely fixed on Grantaire’s as he sang, appearing somewhat stiff and awkward at first, but loosening up by the end of the first verse. By the end of the first chorus, he was striding across the room, straddling Grantaire’s lap and playing with his hair as he continued to sing to him. Absolutely stunned into silence, Grantaire could only gawp as Enjolras rolled his hips once, teasingly rubbing against him before planting a kiss to his cheek and standing, strutting back across the room to the makeshift stage area.

Grantaire stared after him, blinked a few times, then turned back to Éponine.

“Y-Yeah, you’re right. It’s definitely the sex.”


	6. 6. Did Someone Spike the Eggnog?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like these are getting sillier. I'm not sorry.

“Hey! Who spiked the eggnog?!” Grantaire grumbled, trying to keep Enjolras upright as he giggled, trying to press sloppy kisses to whatever parts of his boyfriend he could reach. Not that Grantaire had a problem with Enjolras being affectionate, but he wasn’t used to seeing him with anything less than complete control, and it unnerved him a little to see the normally serious man in such a state.

It had to have been the eggnog. Enjolras wasn’t a drinker; one of the reasons that Grantaire wasn’t used to seeing him lose control of his senses. He was the kind of person who hated the feeling of having blanks in his memory, getting somewhat stressed if he woke up with no memory of getting there. Grantaire had only seen him go through that experience once, one of the few times that he’d seen Enjolras willingly pick up a drink, when Combeferre had been injured at a rally and the leader had spiralled into feelings of fear and guilt. It had taken a while to rouse him from that, and many heart-to-hearts with Combeferre before he could bear to take such direct action as a rally again.

Since that night, Enjolras had been even stricter with his avoidance of anything alcoholic. He never wanted to experience memory blanks again, he’d said. It had terrified him, waking up with no idea of what he’d done or how he’d gotten to bed. At first, he hadn’t even recognised Grantaire’s apartment, panicking that he’d gone home with a stranger. Even Grantaire had to admit that he preferred Enjolras sober after that.

So, as usual, he’d stuck with the eggnog. He enjoyed the holiday drink, and it always made him feel a little more festive. So, it must have been something in the eggnog that was making him act this way.

In response to Grantaire’s question, he found himself approached by a sheepish-looking Courfeyrac, which immediately prompted him to raise an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Hey R, ehm… Was he drinking the eggnog from the table in here?”

“Of course he was! That’s the only eggnog there is!”

Courfeyrac gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, actually, I’d kept some back separate in the kitchen… For him… This one in here has whisky in it. I could have sworn that I told him, but I guess I forgot…”

Grantaire sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Enjolras was going to be a nightmare in the morning. He’d be so ill, and he’d spend the entire day complaining about how his head was spinning too much to get anything done. Not to mention that he’d kill Grantaire for letting it happen, as if he could have magically guessed that the eggnog on the table was spiked. As for Courfeyrac… Grantaire thought it would be best if he started running now.

“Damnit Courf! Look at him!”

As if to prove his boyfriend’s point, Enjolras let out a low whine, clinging to Grantaire’s body like a sloth, arms and legs all curled tightly around him as he fought for every scrap of Grantaire’s attention. Grantaire sighed again and disentangled the other man, placing him back on his feet. Enjolras crossed his arms and sat on the floor, pouting, and it was all Grantaire could do to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“See what you’ve created? He’s like a petulant child when he’s drunk! Happy and giggly one minute, demanding and clingy the next!”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted to date him!”

Grantaire could feel his muscles tensing, hands curling into fists by his sides for a brief moment. But then a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“No, don’t you put this on me. You created this monster, you can be responsible for it.”

Grinning jovially, he patted Courfeyrac’s cheek, leaving him standing there gaping as he watched his friend turn away to rejoin the party, calling over his shoulder; 

“Merry Christmas Courf. I hope you enjoy the party!”


	7. 7. Snowman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is super short and sweet!

A soft shudder ran through Grantaire’s body. She was coming downstairs, and she was singing that damn song again. It was driving him insane. If he had to sing it again, he wasn’t sure he could handle it. But she would make him sing it, and he knew it. She always did. He couldn’t say not to her. She’d give him the eyes, and he couldn’t deal with the eyes. Enjolras said that he needed to learn to maintain his resolve, but as soon as he saw her little lip tremble, he was done for.

Sneaking a look at Enjolras, snuggled up to him on the sofa, book in hand, he could see a similar look of horror in his eyes, could feel the tension beginning to seep back into his muscles. He knew it was coming too. And despite all his great advice to the contrary, he wasn’t good at denying her anything either.

“Oh no…”

It was only two words, soft as a breath of wind, but as soon as Grantaire followed Enjolras’ gaze towards the window, he knew exactly why those two words were filled with such fear.

It was snowing.

Oh god… Now she would expect to actually do it. She would expect to outside and she would expect it to look exactly like him and she would want to sing the entire time. 

Grantaire could already feel the headache forming in his temples.

“Daddy! Papa! It’s snowing!”

The little voice made them freeze for a moment, turning to look at each other in abject horror, before taking a deep breath and smoothing their expressions into the huge smiles that their little daughter was used to seeing.

“Yes sweetheart,” Enjolras nodded, “It is.”

She smiled at them; her angelic little smile that had them both wrapped around her little finger. Standing there, wearing her little bunny slippers and Bambi pyjamas, she looked like nothing more than the sweet little five-year-old that everyone saw her as.

Her parents knew better. She had a streak of evil in her, and it was about to rear its ugly head once again. 

Clutched in her hand was that damned Olaf doll. She carried him everywhere now that it was the Christmas season. She hugged him to her chest, opening her mouth to take a deep breath, a sure sign that she was about to sing. The air whistled through the gap in her front teeth, where she’d lost a baby tooth just that morning.

Grantaire tensed, reaching for Enjolras’ hand, preparing himself for the torture that he knew was sure to follow. Any second now, and she would say those words that haunted his nightmares…

“Daddy! Papa! Do you wanna build a snowman?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say that I have nothing whatsoever against Frozen; I actually did quite enjoy it when it came out, and I do like the music. I also think it's super cute seeing little girls get so excited over princesses like I used to. I just had this idea and thought it was funny.


	8. 8. Christmas Jumpers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was somewhat inspired by that one post on tumblr about the "get along shirt" with the e/R art. I can't seem to find it though, but it should be kicking about on there somewhere. If someone knows where it is so that I can link it here, I'd be super grateful!

“Enjolras has never worn a Christmas jumper in his life, and you really think this is the best way to get him to start?” Combeferre looked up from the bag that Courfeyrac was holding out to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not going to work Courf. Never in a million years.”

“Oh, it will!” the other man insisted, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he tucked the bag away beneath the table. “Trust me.”

Combeferre shook his head fondly. He still didn’t think that Courfeyrac’s plan would work, but he wasn’t going to ruin his fun. 

“Tell you what. If Enjolras shows up to the Christmas jumper day meeting wearing that thing, I’ll owe you dinner.”

“Sounds perfect!” Courfeyrac grinned, leaning across the table to place a gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. “It’s a date.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ok, you have to wear it to the meeting tonight,” Courfeyrac immediately rushed out when Enjolras opened the door. “I can’t stay, but I needed to deliver this so that you had it in time.”

“Courf, is this another attempt to get me in a Christmas jumper? You know I hate the things! I’m not…”

“But you’ll love this one!” his friend insisted with a grin, “Come on Enj, it’s Christmas jumper day! It’s, like, a nationally recognised thing!”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and took the bag gingerly, almost as if he were afraid it would bite him. “I-I guess I could have a look at it…” On seeing the look of utter delight on Courfeyrac’s face, he quickly backtracked. “I’m not making any promises! I just said I’ll have a look. I’ll see how I feel later, and maybe I’ll put it on for a little bit if it makes you that happy…”

“Oh, it will!”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It’s not like Enjolras to be late,” Combeferre commented mildly, sipping on a glass of water as he turned to look towards the door. “I wonder why he’s taking so long.”

“He’d better hurry up!” Courfeyrac whined. “I’ve actually done it this year Ferre. He’s going to show up in that jumper, and I don’t want to lose a single moment!”

“Don’t get too excited love. He’s not going to…”

Combeferre fell silent as the door opened, hardly able to believe his eyes. Enjolras was, indeed, wearing his Christmas jumper, and it was an utter monstrosity. The sheer number of bright colours made the whole thing clash, and Combeferre found it almost painful to look at. In amongst the colours somewhere were the words “Jingle My Bells”, which he was certain that Enjolras wouldn’t find the slightest bit amusing. There was absolutely nothing that would endear this jumper to Enjolras…

Except the second neck apparently. 

Also concealed in the monstrous item of clothing was Grantaire, red faced and smiling sheepishly. The two of them walked even closer than usual, confined by the jumper, their free hands in the middle clasped tightly. 

“This was a great idea Courf,” Enjolras smiled as he walked past their table. “Maybe I do like Christmas jumpers after all.”

Combeferre gawped after them as they approached the front of the room, Grantaire grumbling under his breath about having to take centre stage just because Enjolras insisted “it was the rules of Christmas jumper day”. He couldn’t turn his gaze away from them until he noticed Courfeyrac leaning over the table, a proud grin lighting up his face.

“Told you! Now, where are you going to take me for dinner…?”


	9. 9. Ice Skating

“I don’t think anyone looking at us would normally think that I was the graceful one in the relationship!” Grantaire laughed, extending a hand to the grumpy-looking blond, who stared up at him with a pout on his lips, arms folded across his chest. 

“I told you that I couldn’t skate,” he grumbled as he finally accepted the outstretched hand and allowed Grantaire to pull him to his feet, trying to keep his balance on shaky legs. “You were the one who insisted on coming here. If you’re just going to laugh at me-!”

“I’m not laughing at you! I’m just saying that you look like you should be as graceful as a gazelle, but you’re actually more of an elephant.”

Enjolras managed a soft snort at that. It was true after all. He’d never been good at the graceful arts, or the arts in general really. He had more of a mind for literature and logic than for artistic endeavours. But that was one of the things that he most admired about Grantaire; his enthusiasm for the arts and the beautiful grace that he carried through them. Sure, his boyfriend may not have the brain for mathematics, but he had a wonderful way with words, imagination, creativity, and a passion behind it all. Enjolras admired that. 

“And you are the most amazing skater I have ever seen,” he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Grantaire’s cheek. “Ok… I’m going to try again.”

Never one to give up, a hard determination settled in his eyes as he took a few tottering steps back, away from the safety of Grantaire’s embrace. There was a cold chill in the air, but the bright lights of the Christmas fayre brought a certain joy to the air that made the rosy cheeks and numb noses almost unnoticeable. And he had always enjoyed watching Grantaire on the open-air ice rink; it was almost like watching him dance amongst the stars, with only the backdrop of the inky black sky behind him. It truly was a beautiful sight.

But this was the first year that Grantaire had insisted that Enjolras join him on the ice.

He’d looked so hopeful as he’d asked the question, almost shy, but eyes sparkling with excitement. How could Enjolras have said no to that?

So here he was, and he was determined to prove to himself that he could do this and not make even more of a fool of himself.

However, it wasn’t to be. As soon as the security of Grantaire’s arms was gone, he felt his heart flutter as his legs trembled, already feeling the strain of trying not to slip again. He was terrified to move even a single muscle for a moment, completely frozen still, trying to find his balance. He could do this, surely? It couldn’t be that difficult…

Slowly, ever so gently, he moved one foot in front of the other. A smile lit up his face as he realised that he was still standing. Now for the other one…

He yelped as his foot slipped away from him and he fell forwards, landing in Grantaire’s waiting arms. Those arms tightened around his trembling body, a deep rumble echoing in the smaller man’s chest. 

“Maybe next year, huh?” Grantaire smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Enjolras’ head. “How about this time we just skate together?”

Taking the other man’s hands in his, Grantaire began to skate backwards with a practiced ease, a soft smile encouraging his boyfriend to just relax and have fun.

“I’ve got you darling. I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go and enjoy it.”

His steps were clunky and awkward at first, but Enjolras soon found himself relaxing, falling into the rhythm of the delicate movements of his feet. Another smile lit up his face, even brighter than before. He’d never thought he’d admit it, but he was actually having a lot of fun.

“Just look at me,” Grantaire whispered, “Concentrate on me.”

Enjolras was so busy focusing on the loving intensity of Grantaire’s gaze, that he failed to notice the absence of the other man’s hands in his until Grantaire stopped moving and he skated right into him, caught immediately in his embrace and pulled tight against his chest.

“You did it,” Grantaire whispered in his ear, a soft hint of pride lacing his voice. “See? I knew you could. I told you! You-!”

He squeaked in surprise as Enjolras’ arms were suddenly flung around his neck and lips were pressed hard against his. It only took a moment for him to relax, a soft hum rising from his throat as his eyes fluttered. For once, he didn’t mind being interrupted.


	10. 10. A Christmas Tradition

Every Christmas Eve, he would make the journey back to Lille, back to the little cottage where he’d spent the first nine years of his life. He’d been happy then; just him and his grandmama, laughing and playing and learning together. He’d loved her dearly, and she’d raised him as her own after his mother had died during his birth. Life had been as perfect as he could have imagined, until his ninth birthday, when his father had returned and taken him away from her. He hadn’t seen her again until he was 17, and by then she was old and frail. He’d spent a few final happy months with her before she’d passed away. 

So, every Christmas Eve, he would make the journey back to her little cottage and spend the night there, sleeping in his childhood bedroom. It had been left to him in her will after all, and he had never had the heart to sell it. It let him feel close to her. He would light the little log fire and he would drink to her memory; a shot of ouzo, a drink from her homeland. It wasn’t his favourite, but it had been hers, and he knew how fondly she’d always spoken of Greece. He’d travelled there only once; to bring her ashes home. He knew it was what she would have wanted.

On Christmas day, he would make the journey to Boulogne-Sur-Mer, like he and his grandmama had always done. They hadn’t had any other family to spend the holidays with, and they had both always loved the sea. Rising early, they would make the journey whilst it was still dark, standing on the beach, waves lapping gently around their ankles as the sun rose over the horizon. A few hours swimming, then a picnic on the beach before making the journey home. In the afternoon, they would exchange gifts and then grandmama would make the Christmas dinner. He would always be exhausted by the end of the day, but the happiest he’d ever been.

Every year, he would follow the same routine, in honour of her. It was difficult to explain, but it brought him not only a sense of longing, but also a strange serenity. It felt like he was with her again. Every year, he made this journey alone.

2017 was the first year Enjolras made the journey with him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He closed his eyes, calmed by the feeling of the waves around his ankles. Flexing his toes, he let out a soft sigh of contentment. The picnic basket lay on the sand, waiting for them whenever they were ready. The presents were back at the cottage, sitting under the tree. The dinner had been prepared and would just have to be put on to cook when he got back. A hand squeezed his gently, a comforting reminder that, this year, he was not alone.

“You look happy,” Enjolras whispered, prompting him to open his eyes and smile at his boyfriend.

“I am happy.”


	11. 11. School Nativity

“Papa? Why isn’t daddy coming with us?” 

That one question, that little pleading voice, almost broke Grantaire’s heart. Stopping in the middle of the street, he turned towards his little daughter, kneeling in front of her and gently placing his hands on her little shoulders.

“He wanted to, princess, he really did. But daddy is a very busy man, and he needed to work very hard to try and put a bad man in jail.”

Bella nodded and started walking again, Grantaire quickly straightening up and following her, taking hold of her hand. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes. She’d been so excited about her first ever Nativity play, and she’d been so proud that she’d managed to learn her lines. She’d been reciting them around the house for weeks now, wearing the little angel costume that Cosette had made for her, and she’d been so excited to finally perform in front of all the parents. But now all of that spirit was gone; head bowed, steps slow and sluggish where they had previously been bouncy. Seeing her, Grantaire could feel tears pricking at his eyes.

He’d been furious with Enjolras at first. When he’d told him that he had to be in court on the day of Bella’s play, he’d yelled in response, argued with him all night, and slept on the sofa, refusing to come to bed. It was only when he’d snuck into the bedroom in the early hours of the morning, only to find Enjolras curled up in bed with red-rimmed eyes, did he realise that his boyfriend was more heartbroken than he was.

He’d be fired if he didn’t make it to court, he’d been told. It was a high-profile case and he’d been working on it for months. There was no other lawyer who could take it over. And losing this case was completely out of the question.

So, as much as it broke his heart, Grantaire had to let him go. Enjolras loved his job, and they couldn’t risk him losing it. But it was so difficult to explain that to their five-year-old daughter, who only wanted her father’s support on her big day. Why was that too much to ask for?

As they approached the school gates, Grantaire managed to smile, kneeling down to pull Bella into a tight hug. 

“Alright Isabella, I know it’s hard that daddy couldn’t come, but you’re going to be amazing, ok? Papa’s here, and I’m going to cheer so, so loud, because you’ve been working so hard and now all you need to do is go and have fun.”

“W-What if I forget my words…?” Bella whispered, clinging tightly to Grantaire as she began to tremble. Grantaire immediately began to shush her softly, stroking her hair and placing a gentle kiss to her head.

“You won’t, sweetheart. I’ve heard you practicing. You’ve known your words for a long time. And even if you do, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that you have fun. Papa is so proud of you, my little angel. I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too papa.”

Grantaire smiled and got back to his feet.

“Alright, let’s get you inside and dressed, yeah?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After dropping Bella of at her classroom, Grantaire made his way across the street to the church, taking his seat in the front pew, which had been reserved for the parents of the children who had been chosen to perform in the Nativity. Moments later, someone slid in next to him just as he heard a familiar voice say;

“So… I guess Blondie couldn’t make it then?”

“Hey ‘ponine.” He turned around and smiled, giving Éponine a quick hug. “You’re sitting here too?”

“Yeah, Gavroche is playing narrator,” she chuckled, “I didn’t really think it was his kinda thing, but he gets to read it from a book in the pulpit, and he seems really excited about it. Mum and dad aren’t coming of course, so I get to take their spot.” She flashed him a wicked grin. “And Bella’s the angel, isn’t she? You must be so proud.”

“Definitely,” Grantaire nodded, the little smile on his face betraying just how proud he really was, “She’s been so eager to perform it, reciting her lines to us for weeks. But… Well… She’s suddenly gotten a bit of stage fright. I think it’s because Gabriel isn’t here…”

“Oh Nic… That must be hard for her…”

“Yeah… It’s hard for all of us. It’s not his fault that he can’t be here, but Bella doesn’t deserve to suffer either… I’m so angry with his boss for forcing him into this position. He was desperate to be here for her…”

Éponine wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close until his head was resting on her shoulder.

“I’m sure she’ll forget about it soon. Kids usually do.”

“I know, but it’s still so unfair…”

“Hey, at least she’ll have all her aunties and uncles!” Éponine grinned, gesturing over her shoulder. Sure enough, when Grantaire turned around, he saw all of Les Amis streaming into the church, crowding onto the back pew, sporting t-shirts that proudly proclaimed, “Go Bella!”. Grantaire didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, really. It was such a lovely gesture that they’d all turned up in support of his daughter, but not completely surprising. They had all adopted the role of aunt or uncle during the years since Bella’s adoption, and they doted on her as if she truly were their niece. 

He and Enjolras truly did have the best friends ever.

The church was beginning to get crowded now, as families tried to squeeze in before the show started. Even as his pew began to fill, Grantaire was all too aware of the cold and empty gap by his side where his boyfriend should have been sitting.

Then, all of a sudden, a few chords began to hum as the school band started warming up their instruments. Grantaire suddenly found that he couldn’t settle, nervous for Bella’s big moment. He really hoped that she’d do well, if only so that her confidence didn’t get knocked for the future. He wanted her to believe that she could do anything she set her mind to. 

“Excuse me… Pardon me… Sorry, can I just…?”

Grantaire took a deep breath as the people around him began to shuffle. He hated the disruption that latecomers caused, but at least the play hadn’t quite started yet. He focused his gaze back onto the stage, waiting for Bella to appear.

“Hey babe. You didn’t really think I’d miss this did you?”

In that moment, Grantaire could have sworn he felt his heart soar. Whipping his head around, he practically threw himself into Enjolras’ arms; at least, as well as he could whilst trapped in a pew.

“Oh my god, Gabriel! Bella will be so thrilled! But what about your case?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “That thing? Nowhere near as important as our little girl. I’ve been training up another lawyer on the case for the past few weeks so that he could take over today. I went in this morning and told my boss, and then walked out. I don’t know if he’s really going to fire me or not, but if he does I have other options. What’s important right now is that I’m here for Bella.”

Grantaire could only nod, resting his head on Enjolras’ shoulder as the kids began to walk down the centre aisle, Bella leading the way. She seemed nervous, fidgety, the smile on her face not quite a smile. But then she looked over and caught sight of Enjolras, and her face lit up, her posture almost immediately changing to display the newfound confidence that she seemed to have gained.

Grantaire smiled.

She was going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, sorry I'm so far behind on this! But I am going to finish it! And if anyone has any other ideas for holiday one-shots that they'd like to see, (or other ideas in general), feel free to shoot me an ask on tumblr! I'm rthecynic on there too, so come say hi! ^-^


End file.
